


more glory than grief

by sinequanon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 16:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12486460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinequanon/pseuds/sinequanon
Summary: Stiles was at Hogwarts for one reason—to learn everything he could to help protect Scott and Beacon Hills. He wasn’t sure how he ended up looking out for the newly-arrived Hale Pack, but he supposes he’ll do it anyway.Meanwhile, the Hales are just trying to settle in at their new school and figure out this strange boy that keeps popping up out of nowhere.





	more glory than grief

**Author's Note:**

> This is not so much a crossover as a fusion of the two fandoms. I am in no way a Harry Potter expert, so any HP particulars I used came from the HP Wikia. I’m not super satisfied with the ending, but I really just wanted this one to be mostly easy and angst-free.
> 
> Two things regarding Derek: one, I’ve de-aged Derek to make him the same age as Stiles and company; two, I imply future Derek/Stiles in this, but you could just think of it as a school romance, if you’d like.
> 
> Happy reading!

_For all the progress that has been made in the years since the Great War, the wizarding world has remained remarkably stubborn on the issue of werewolves. Despite their invaluable assistance in the battle against Voldemort, many are still afraid of not just werewolves, but all shifters, and our world is the poorer for it_. --Sorcha Blackmon, “The Myth of the Werewolf”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he finished the article for class. It made sense that their teachers were loading them up on werewolf information, considering their upcoming guests, but no amount of front-loading of the positive public relations messages was going to get people to change their opinions--the Hale pack would have to do that for themselves once they arrived.

Honestly, Stiles was just hopeful that the arrival of said pack would take people's attention away from him. The initial attention he had gotten as a muggle-born American had been mostly supplanted by the now common knowledge that Stiles was both willing and able to defend himself if necessary, but some people still kept trying to poke at him anyway.

(Of course, his teachers were the only ones who knew _why_ he was so good at defending himself, but Stiles was okay with that.)

Stiles would have rather not left Scott at all, but as long as he was going to be stuck at magic school, he was going to take advantage of all of the resources at his disposal. Everyone else, unknown werewolves included, was secondary at this point.

<> <>

The Hales arrived at Hogwarts on a dreary Thursday afternoon. The professors had spent the morning encouraging everyone to be mindful of the fact that the pack had tragically lost their school and many of their belongings, and drolly informing them that accidental maulings due to insensitivity would be largely overlooked. Stiles thought it was hilarious the way some students’ eyes widened at that, as if picturing their inevitable deaths for accidentally bumping into a werewolf in the hallway, but he otherwise ignored the lectures altogether.

When the new arrivals were sorted into houses that night at dinner, Stiles looked up from his book only long enough to glance at the three new Ravenclaw at his table before turning back to his studies. He’d no doubt find out their names later.

<> <>

Those at Hogwarts who were hoping to see a mauling were thoroughly disappointed when the most any of the new people did was growl and shred a few robes, though Stiles had to admit that some of the glares were rather impressive. Still, eschewing house loyalties, the Hale pack spent the majority of their time together, which suited most everyone.

Unfortunately, the people who were unsatisfied with the arrangement were mostly bullies. Stiles detested those who took advantage of others, and probably enjoyed making them suffer a little too much. Scott would be proud of him for taking some time out from studying, though, even if it was to scare the pants off of people.

Besides, Liam seemed like a nice kid, and no one deserved to be subjected to Donovan and Theo any longer than necessary. Stiles knew that he should probably be keeping his head down, but…Oh, well. Needs must.

“Yo,” Stiles said lightly, following Donovan into the bathroom where Theo had the younger boy cornered.

“...so if being a hairy monster isn't a curse, how about I show you another one?” Theo threatened, lifting his wand. All three boys looked surprised to see him, and Stiles gave a lazy smirk and leaned against the tiled wall.

“That's pretty funny, threatening him with a curse when you can't even hold your wand properly.” He nodded towards Theo, who shouted in alarm when his wand suddenly became a snake and hissed at him. He threw the snake across the room, and he and Donovan turned to Stiles with wide eyes.

“Your wand is getting away,” he pointed out, as the snake slithered quickly out the door. The two boys barely even glanced at Liam as they left, instead glaring at Stiles who merely waved cheekily at them.

Stiles offered Liam a hand up, thoughts already turned to his upcoming class. “The thing about those two is that they're cowards,” he informed Liam, absently brushing off the werewolf’s robes and checking for injuries. “Just flash your eyes at them next time, and they'll run. Speaking of, I've got to go. Later!” he called, leaving the younger boy staring after him.

<> <>

The arrival of the Hale pack at Hogwarts had changed herbology class more than Stiles would have liked. Case in point: too many students were growing aconite and monkshood, and not nearly enough of them had the sense to be doing so.

Stiles, for his most recent project, had chosen something completely different.

“If you don't mind me asking,” Professor Longbottom asked, knowing well the answer, “why did you choose to grow mistletoe, Stiles?”

“He's probably feeling sentimental, Professor,” one of his classmates teased.

“Yeah, or maybe just mental,” another boy said, making his section of the room snicker loudly.

Neville fought to keep a straight face. He would have thought that these boys would have learned better than to poke at Stiles by now.

“It's probably a Christmas present for the werewolves,” the first boy sneered, drawing the entire class’s attention to the pack in the room, who were looking between the boy and Stiles with growing interest.

“Actually, you're right,” Stiles admitted.

Neville shot a look at Boyd, and Tristan and Travis Hale who were all staring at Stiles in open surprise, and no wonder; the professor was quite certain that Stiles hadn't spoken three words to any of them in the time they’d been in class.

“I just thought,” Stiles continued, “that it was only fair to give them something to be used against witches, considering we're growing so much wolfsbane. Plus, I can't grow venomous tentacula at the moment, so,” he stared at the far table with dark eyes, “I'm making do.”

The moment was broken when someone gave a nervous chuckle, muttering about venomous tentacula being for sixth-year students anyway, and Stiles turned away from the mean boys to continue his work, not even glancing over to where the three werewolves stood, still staring at Stiles with confused looks on their faces.

(He’d speak to Stiles about the venomous tentacula after class; he had no doubt the boy could grow it if he wanted, and Neville would be glad to help him. After all, all of the professors knew that it was only Stiles's dedication to remaining mostly invisible that trumped his thirst for knowledge and kept him from jumping directly into fifth and sixth year classes.)

<> <>

Allison didn't hate Hogwarts. Really. She didn't have it nearly as tough as the werewolves, and she liked most of her classes, but she really, _really_ wanted to practice her archery. She wasn't dumb enough to go into the Dark Forest, and she had no doubt that her dad or Peter would complain on her behalf of she asked, but…

She contented herself by drawing bows, arrows and archery range specifications in her free time. Because who wants to use a bow and arrow when a wand is so much more convenient? Only her, that's who.

“It's fairly easy to start a club around here,” a voice said from behind Allison, startling her out of her thoughts. "All you need to do is talk to Professor McGonagall and give her a list of other people who might be interested in joining,” Stiles said, dropping down beside her. “She'll do the rest; she's terribly efficient that way.”

“I don't know of anyone--”

He thrust a parchment with a handful of names on it into her hands. “Here's a list of people who would be interested. You’ll probably want to talk to them first.”

Allison dumbly looked at the list, then back at Stiles. “You're not going to join?”

“It's better for the world if I'm not allowed to deal with most pointy objects,” he grinned and stood. “See you around, Allison.”

<> <>

“I want deer,” Malia said, eyeing the Dark Forest with speculation. She missed her favorite food, and she was pretty sure that she could bring down some game before anyone caught her. Her dad would help her cover it up, anyway.

She had just started to change when she heard someone coming her way, whistling lightly. Stiles Stilinski came into view a few moments later.

For all that Hogwarts was a confusing place, Stiles was a constant that she appreciated. He rarely spoke to anyone, Malia included, but everyone knew not to mess with him. It was a trait that the coyote could appreciate.

“Everything is hard, and deer is my favorite,” she said when the boy approached.

“Sit by me in potions, if you want.” He shrugged. “You won't find any deer in there, though. If you want game, talk to Hagrid.” He shrugged again, apologetically. “He cooks his meat, though. His stews are pretty good.”

Malia nodded at the other boy in thanks. This was much more useful information than how to flick a wand or stare at the mush in the bottom of a teacup.

“Sometimes, I get so angry at people I want to rip them up,” she said suddenly, watching Stiles for his reaction.

“So you feel like everyone else, then. Who knows how many people I've been mad enough to hurt over the years?” he smirked. “Just don't go around ripping people's throats out, and you’ll be fine.”

It was a lot more complicated than that, Malia thought, but she appreciated the thought.

“Anyway,” he said with a wave, “I have to go. See you in class, Malia.”

He went back exactly the way he had come, leaving the coyote to wonder what he had been out there for in the first place.

<> <>

Jackson should not be in Runes. _Jackson_ should not be in Runes. Runes was complicated and boring, and the only the reason he was taking the class was because Jackson knew better than to leave his girlfriend alone in a room with someone like Stiles Stilinski.

Lydia was convinced that Stiles was just as smart as she was, and she was dedicated to drawing him into conversation and into the pack’s sphere of influence. Stiles kept politely rebuffing her efforts, and it was driving Lydia crazy.

Jackson just rolled his eyes when Lydia finally managed to glare them seats next to Stiles. “Hello, Stiles,” she said. “You're going to be our partner for this project.”

Stiles didn't look up from his tracing. “Are you sure you're going to have enough time in between all of your visits to the restricted section?”

“What?” Lydia said dumbly, which was not a look that Jackson saw on Lydia's face very often. Most of the pack didn't even know about their nighttime trips, so how did Stiles find out?

“You just need to find the right frequency to tune in to the spirits,” he remarked, carefully reinforcing the symbol on his parchment. “Find another banshee to be your mentor. It will be much quicker and less painful than the way you're going about it at the moment.”

Lydia and Jackson just stared at him until he looked up from his work.

“Oh, you didn't know,” Stiles said, seeing the look on Lydia's face. “I'll do some research and find someone to help you, okay?”

Jackson watched as Lydia's face went through a variety of emotions before settling on touched, another look that the werewolf didn't see very often. Stiles looked uncomfortable as well, which left Jackson to fix things.

“All this emotion is touching, really, but what ideas do you two geniuses have for our project?”

<> <>

The Hale pack had just finished their weekly meeting at Hagrid's cottage when Talia's ears pricked at the sound of someone approaching. In seconds, the other adults had noticed as well, and all attention turned to the coming footsteps. Conversation trailed off as the younger members picked up the sound and perked up. Hagrid, too, finally noticed and gave a shrug. “It’ll likely be Stiles come to visit.”

“Stiles?” she asked.

“He's the boy that told Lydia she was a banshee,” her husband explained as said boy came into view.

If everyone hadn't already been looking in his direction, Stiles certainly would have gotten everyone's attention anyway, because he was covered in round, fat, golden birds.

The boy started a bit at the sight of the entire pack staring at him before searching out Hagrid with a rueful grin.

“I have no idea how this happened,” he began, careful of the birds perched on his shoulders and head, and in the basket he was carrying. “I was thinking about golden snidgets and how they were endangered and wondering how many were left in the wild…”

“This morning, Steve here,” he motioned to his right shoulder, “was sitting on my bed. Bucky,” left shoulder shrug, “showed up right before dinner. I'd take care of them if I could, but I don't want to go to Azkaban and I'm pretty sure my dad and Scott would be upset if I went to prison. Can you find a place for them? They're not tagged, so they're definitely wild birds.”

Talia wanted to admonish the boy for conjuring such precious birds, even accidentally, but it was quite obvious that the birds were fond of him. Still, she opened her mouth to express her concerns (ignoring Peter's considering look) when her youngest daughter blurted, “Can I hold one?” which set off a veritable chorus of children asking to hold or pet a snidget.

The boy only barely glanced from Hagrid to Talia before turning toward his audience. “Cup your hands together, and be very, very gentle,” he said, before introducing Tony, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and Phil.

“You named them after the Avengers?” Erica asked brightly, and she and Peter's wife Agatha laughed. They were the only ones who had grown up in muggle households and had heard of the movie.

Stiles smiled widely at the wolf, glad that someone had caught the reference. “Sure. Do you want to hold Natasha? I think you two are a lot alike.”

The werewolf stepped forward, blushing as Stiles carefully placed the last snidget gently into Erica's hands.

“I'll get ‘em home, Stiles, don't you worry,” the gamekeeper promised. “Though I imagine they'll pop in now and again to see you,” Hagrid added when the boy looked sad at the possibility of losing his new friends.

“Thanks, Hagrid,” the boy said, brightening. “I'll let you get back to your meeting, now. Sorry for interrupting.”

Most of the pack stared after him long after he had left their view.

<> <>

“Ow!” Kira complained, falling off of her broom for the fourth time. She’d never be a quidditch star, but she really wanted to be able to stay on her broom for more than thirty seconds at a time.

“Think of it like a katana,” a voice said distractedly, and the kitsune looked up to find that she wasn't the only one on the quidditch pitch. Stiles Stilinski watched her from the bleachers, a thick book in his lap that was definitely not a part of the third year curriculum. “Sorry,” he said, “I come out here to study sometimes. You use a katana, right?” he asked, turning back to the subject at hand.

“Yeah. My mom taught me.”

Stiles nodded as if he had already known that, and gave her a reassuring smile. “You think of your katana as an extension of your body, right? Think of your broom in the same way.”

Kira remembered the conversation a few nights ago about stealthily adopting Stiles and asked him, “Can you help me?”

Stiles jerked as if she had been struck, and Kira thought that she had done something wrong until the other boy set aside his book and grinned at her. “Sure.”

Even without his broom, Stiles turned out to be a persistent (and funny) teacher, and by the end of the day Kira felt confident enough to fly from one end of the school to the other.

At dinner time, Stiles cautiously accepted Kira's offer to sit with him in the library, each of them enjoying the quiet companionship of the other. It was completely unlike meals with the pack, and, Kira suspected, unlike normal meals with Stiles, but she didn't know him well enough to pry, and wasn't nearly as nosy as Laura or Erica.

Instead, she swapped desserts with him and enjoyed the silence.

<> <>

Isaac loved Hagrid, but absolutely dreaded going to his class. It wasn't that he was afraid that he would be hurt, but he always felt stupid talking to a hippogryph or a salamander, and they seemed to sense that, and absolutely hate him as a consequence. Derek told him he was projecting, but he had seen that salamander spit at him, he was sure of it.

(Not to mention, Isaac knew better than to trust Derek’s opinion on anything, considering he spent every class they had with Stiles staring mournfully at the Ravenclaw instead of paying attention to his best friend.)

Of course, Isaac spent much of _his_ time watching Stiles, too, but for a different reason. The best part of class for Isaac was actually watching Stiles interact with the beast-of-the-day. It didn't matter what kind of animal it was, Stiles treated it like a long-lost pet, talking lowly but animatedly to it and offering it various treats hidden within his robes. Stranger yet, all of the creatures seemed to take his attitude in stride, nudging or nibbling at him affectionately. More than once, Stiles had been forced to take an extra trip to Hagrid’s cottage after class to return an errant creature that had decided to follow the boy home.

It was the exact opposite of how the creatures acted around him, and it would be even worse today, because Isaac was about to be rejected by a baby unicorn. The most innocent creature in the world was going to despise him, he just knew it. It provided barely any comfort at all that Derek looked as nervous about today's lesson as he did.

All around the werewolves, their classmates were hesitantly moving towards the young unicorns, arms outstretched.

A sudden “oomph” and the sound of laughter startled everyone, and Isaac peeked around the corner of Hagrid's cabin to where a happy-looking unicorn stood triumphantly over a breathlessly laughing Stiles.

“Goldie, get off of me,” Stiles complained, shoving halfheartedly at the unicorn’s legs as the creature dropped down next to the boy and rested its head atop Stiles's stomach. “You're going to nap on me, aren't you? You know I have class later.”

Isaac must have made some sort of sound, because both boy and unicorn suddenly turned in his direction. The werewolf froze, and Stiles frowned at him. “Do you want to meet her? Do you not get along with George?”

“George? I don't--”

Stiles patted the ground beside him. “Here, lie down next to me, and let Goldie here to the work. George can be temperamental sometimes. You know how unicorns are.”

Actually, Isaac didn't know how unicorns were, but he remembered how careful Stiles had been with the birds and cautiously laid down and tried to calm his thundering heart. Thankfully, Goldie didn't seem to mind as she drifted off after a few minutes, head still resting against Stiles's stomach. Isaac fell asleep a short time later to the sound of the other boy’s humming.

The werewolf woke an hour later to find Goldie’s mane in his face and Hagrid's smiling face looking down on him. “All right, you two. Off with you now.” Isaac hid a smile as both the unicorn and Stiles made disgruntled noises, but soon enough both boys were headed back to the castle.

<> <>

Laura had a plan. Granted, it was not a great plan, but sometimes people had to improvise. Ever since the “golden snidget incident” her mom had tasked Danny, Cora, and Lydia--the Hale pack Ravenclaws--with keeping an eye on the ever-contradictory Stiles Stilinski, who alternated between saving and ignoring the pack. To be fair, he seemed to ignore everyone else, too, so Laura wasn't _very_ offended, but still…

(According to her Uncle Peter, she was just irritated that she hadn't had an encounter with Stiles yet. Which was not true, because she wasn't irritated. Really.)

So. The plan. To talk to Stiles, and maybe start convincing him of the benefits of a life of werewolfdom.

“It's not a plan, Laura. We're going to eat lunch with him, not kidnap him and hide him away in a cabin in the woods,” Cora reminded her.

(And really, Laura thought that Cora wasn't taking the plan seriously. At least Cora had the advantage of being in the same House as Stiles; Laura practically had to beg for information about the kid. Mostly from Cora. She wouldn't point that out, though, because she was a good sister.)

“If he's even there. Sometimes he goes to Hagrid's for lunch,” Derek added quietly. Laura glanced at him, but her brother refused to look in her direction.

“How do you know that?” Laura asked suspiciously.

Cora smirked, and Derek's face went a shade of red that Laura had never seen before. When had this happened? Why hadn't she picked up on this before now? “Our brother has had a crush on Stiles ever since the snidget incident; you just didn't notice. He even practiced smiling yesterday.”

“ _Really_?”

“Shut up, Cora.”

The Hale siblings bickered all the way to where Stiles was sitting by himself at the Ravenclaw table, a humongous tome opened on the surface before him. The wizard looked up at their approach, but they were too busy bickering to notice.

“Not that this isn't entertaining,” he finally interrupted, “but was there something the three of you needed? I have some studying to do.”

Conversation screeched to a halt, and the three of them stared as he moved to leave. Without thinking, Derek reached out and grabbed the other boy’s arm. “Wait! Don't leave. You're already studying here,” he rushed out.

Stiles looked confused for a moment before gesturing to the huge book in his arms. “Oh, this? This is for a friend at home, actually. I'm trying to learn as much as I can about everything so I can help him out when I leave here, which averages out to about 3000 books a year. I'm pretty sure I could sleep in the library at this point, and no one would bat an eye.” He sat back down, though, setting the book gingerly beside him and looking expectantly to the Hales, who followed his example.

“Why do you need to go through all of the books now?” Derek wondered. “You're smart enough to for the Ministry after graduation.” Not to mention the fact that Uncle Peter was already talking about snatching the other boy up as soon as possible.

“I'm going home after I graduate,” he said matter-of-factly. “I'm no werewolf, of course, but I do my part, and Scott shouldn't have to hold the territory by himself.”

“Wait. What? Territory?” Laura asked seriously. “Your friend holds territory?”

“Yeah,” Stiles and answered slowly. “Beacon Hills, California.”

Cora actually dropped her fork. “Your friend is the True Alpha? _You're_ the best friend of the true alpha?” All weres knew about the tiny little pack in America that had tamed a nemeton.

“Stiles,” Derek breathed, squeezing the hand that he was _still holding_ , “you and Scott are famous.”

All of the color drained out of Stiles's face. “How--What--Scott and I--we just want to keep our town safe.” There was no way that a couple of nobody teenagers from a nowhere town were famous in a world that they’d only known about for a few years.

“The kind of stuff that the two of you have pulled off gets noticed,” Derek said gently, trying to soothe the other boy. “That's probably why you got invited to Hogwarts to being with.”

“Well, we were going to try to convince you to join our pack,” Laura said finally, “but I think you're spoken for. How about you date Derek instead?”

Stiles stared at the Hales far too long to be comfortable, but he didn't look angry, just considering, like he was working out a difficult problem in his head. Derek forced himself not to fidget.

Eventually, a tiny corner of Stiles’s mouth turned upward.

“I suppose I could make time for that.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the poem ['Often rebuked, yet always back returning'] by Emily Bronte.
> 
> Next week: the only thing I can say for certain is that I’ll be posting the next two letters in _alphabet soup_. I’d also like to write a couple of short little things for Halloween (one for TW, one for Bleach); if I get those done, that’s what I’ll post for next week. Otherwise, I’ll choose a TW story to post instead, along with the _soup_ stuff.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
